


Councillor's Daughter

by SemperAeternumQue



Category: Keeper of the Lost Cities Series - Shannon Messenger
Genre: Food, Gen, Kotlc legacy, Legacy spoilers, Light Angst, No beta we die like Kenric, Past Character Death, Prompt Fill, Rated T for language, bronte and oralie are bffs change my mind, bronte is the gay uncle who gives amazing or awful advice 2k20, kenric and oralie deserved better 2k20, stan my oc marla the gay polyam trans gal, they deserve to say fuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:03:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27627895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SemperAeternumQue/pseuds/SemperAeternumQue
Summary: Sophie goes to Bronte's castle to practice inflicting, and ends up in more serious discussions than she had thought.
Relationships: Councillor Bronte & Councillor Oralie (Keeper of the Lost Cities), Councillor Bronte & Sophie Foster (Keeper of the Lost Cities), Councillor Oralie & Sophie Foster (Keeper of the Lost Cities), past Councillor Kenric/Councillor Oralie
Comments: 19
Kudos: 37





	Councillor's Daughter

**Author's Note:**

> What's up fuckers it's been forever since I wrote for Keeper of the Lost Cities, but in a haze of excitement for Unlocked I tried to fill a prompt and somehow ended up with this oneshot. 
> 
> Anon on tumblr requested: Hey I love your work with Bronte, he's my favourite too! I was wondering whether you could do a prompt of Bronte teaching Sophie and helping her control her inflicting and being nicer than he usually is in general. Thanks!
> 
> Warnings: discussion of past character death.

Sophie shifted nervously as she stood at the doorstep of a Councillor's castle, praying it was the right one. Bronte had told her 'right next to Oralie's, but the one that's not Alina's'. Which was a clear enough direction, but given that it was two minutes past when their session was supposed to begin and Bronte still hadn't come to open the door, she was starting to worry. Taking a breath to steady herself, she knocked on the door again, this time hearing a quick pitter-patter of footsteps. Bronte had a surprisingly light gait; Sophie suspected his down-to-earth attitude and stance were outweighed by the fact that he was about five feet tall and not especially sturdily built. 

The door clicked open to reveal Bronte himself, dressed more elegantly than Sophie had ever seen him. _Even_ more elegantly.

“Good morning, Sophie.”

Sophie managed a nervous “Hello.”, suddenly intimidated by just how authoritative Bronte always seemed.

He seemed to notice her fearful gaze, looking slightly puzzled and then glancing down at himself. “Ah, right. I just got out of a highly important meeting, that’s what the finery is for.”

“Oh.”

“Yes. No offense, Miss Foster, but an inflicting session with you- even one off Foxfire grounds- does not merit this sort of dress.”

Sophie snorted a bit. “I hope not.”

“If it did, I would start accusing myself of making excuses to show off my wardrobe.” Bronte pulled the door open further, stepping back to let her inside. 

“Do you really have that great a wardrobe?” Sophie couldn’t help asking as she stepped into the castle.

“I’m a Councillor, I have to. Admittedly, I got away with much of it being black and grey, though.”

She suddenly related very hard to the grumpy Councillor. “That’s how I dressed in the human world. All black.”

“Hmm.”

“Almost emo, I guess.”

“What is emo?”

So while Bronte led her through the twisty halls of his castle, Sophie explained alt subculture in the human world to him. She spared a bit of attention to her surroundings, though, noting the stark difference between Bronte and Oralie’s castles. It was clear both had the same base of crystal, but the decoration here was wildly different than what Sophie had seen in the other two Councillor’s castles she had visited. True to form, Bronte had decorated rather plainly. High-quality wood, mainly mahogany or some sort of ashy grey wood, made up most of the furniture. Most other decoration was stark black, and she restrained a comment about Bronte being a goth. He probably wouldn’t get it anyways. However, some areas seemed startlingly cozy, like the living room area they passed through. A few rooms over from his ‘main’ living room, this room was clearly designed with comfort in mind. There were a few large armchairs, surprisingly cozy-looking, and a nice fireplace. This effect was somewhat diminished by the truly massive sword hanging over the mantle, as well as a few other weapons, but Sophie supposed Bronte would always be, well...Bronte.

“That was a gift from Queen Hylda’s grandmother,” Bronte called from a bit ahead of her. “She was impressed at my ability and willingness to fight alongside her troops.”

“Oh.” Sophie glanced up at the sword again. “It looks nice.”

“Traditional goblin design.” 

“Cool. Where are we going, by the way?”

Bronte stopped short in the room that opened up onto the living room. “My kitchen.”

“Why?”

“Snacks.”

Sophie was befuddled, but she nodded as Bronte retrieved a tin of custard bursts. 

“You know, my bro- someone I used to know always said food is essential for studying. Now take that with a grain of salt, but in this case it may be helpful. Besides, they never feed Foxfire kids properly at lunch these days.”

"Are you...fussing over me?"

Bronte glared at her. "Absolutely not. I'm just saying that Foxfire really needs to get better lunch food."

"How do you know that?"

"Do you think I don't eat lunch there when I mentor you?"

Sophie had, in fact, never considered that. "Oh."

"I don't always eat at Foxfire, sometimes I have to go meet up with the rest of the Council for something or other, but I do know a couple of the the other mentors. So I'll stick around when I can." By now, he had reversed course and was leading her up the stairs, of which there were quite a few.

"I didn't know you had friends."

"Remind me why I'm mentoring you again?"

"Only other inflictor."

"Ah, yes, that." Bronte turned right at the top of the stairwell. "Besides, you remind me of myself."

"Not sure how to feel about that one."

That earned Sophie a massive sigh as he pushed open the door to their apparent destination. It was a simple room, even plainer than the rest of his castle. There were a few chairs and one small desk, all of which had rounded corners and edges. The floor was carpeted.

"What's this room?" Sophie wanted to know.

"My practice area." Bronte's gaze followed her own. "The rounded edges and the carpet make it harder to fall over and seriously injure yourself, and this room is isolated enough that almost all people are well out of my inflicting range. Just in case. I have no idea how your range compares to mine, but hopefully the room is isolated enough to make it not an issue."

Sophie took a breath and nodded, trying to remind herself that this extra session was supposed to help with her control. "Okay."

"It's going to be fine," he promised. "Now where is Marla?"

"Marla?"

At that moment, an elf who was taller than Bronte or Sophie by a significant amount came hurrying in, bright red hair streaming behind her. "Sorry I'm late, Councillor Bronte! I got held up talking with Keni."

"No problem, I was late getting out of my meeting as well. Emery does like to go on."

"And Keni's no different, but you know they're pretty," 'Marla' laughed.

"Yes, yes, I know you think they're handsome. Sophie, this is one of my assistants, Marla. She/her. She's agreed to help us with the lesson today. Marla, this is my prodigy, Sophie. She/her as well."

"Fun!" Marla flashed Sophie a smile that was probably intended to be reassuring. "I'm getting paid, don't worry. I've been promised homemade custard bursts for my involvement."

Sophie just nodded nervously.

"Right, back to business," Bronte told them both. "Sophie, I have a very simple task for you. You said you want to learn how to focus your inflicting, so your job will be to target _only_ me. Marla is here to-"

"Stand around looking pretty," Marla jumped in. "Your job is to not hurt me, as I understand it, but it's chill if you get me too."

Bronte sighed. "Yes. Marla was fully informed of the dangers of the job, don't worry."

Sophie glanced between the two of them. "Are you really sure? I can hurt both of you like, really badly."

Marla crouched down a little, giving her a gentle smile. "I'm a charger, you know. Not too good at controlling it, either. So when Councillor Grumpyface over here told me he needed help with a prodigy who struggled with control, I was like 'sure thing!. Plus, I know he wouldn't throw you at something you couldn't handle."

"Okay, but he's still going to _let me inflict on him_."

"I wouldn't let you if I wasn't certain I could handle it," Bronte told her. "Trust me."

Sophie nodded, only somewhat reassured. "Okay. Now?"

"Now."

She gathered up all her anxiety, summoned up her painful memories and her anger, and shoved it out of her head, trying to think about pushing it towards Bronte.

When her vision cleared, both of the others were on the floor. 

"Ow, you weren't kidding," Marla groaned. "That hurt like a motherfucker."

"Could have been worse." Bronte got to his feet and offered Marla a hand. "Powerful, but undirected."

The next time, Sophie didn't even manage to knock Bronte over.

"Too weak," he told her. "You're excellent at controlling the force, not the direction."

"Well how do I control the direction?" Sophie demanded, thoroughly fed up.

"Focus more on the specific emotion that you're trying to use, and the specific person you're trying to use it on. You need to want to hurt me specifically."

"That's kinda hard, you're being nice to me."

Bronte huffed a sigh. "Well I was an asshole to you when you first got here, think about that."

Sophie gritted her teeth and focused on every awful thing Bronte had said or done, all the ways he had hurt younger Sophie. _Only hurt him. Only hurt him_. As the first wave of anger started to recede, she saw that he was still standing, but she refused to give up. Her rage was exhausted, but that was nowhere near the deepest well she could draw from. So she turned to her pain instead, pulling from the sorrow and the fear and the desperate _loneliness_ of her childhood, in first the human world and then the elven one. She took every ounce, every scrap, of the agony of being alone, being different, and let it pour out onto her target. Onto Bronte.

This time, when her vision cleared, Bronte was crumpled on the floor and Marla was staring at her in astonishment. "Whoa, girl. Did you just kill a Councillor?"

"I hope not," Sophie managed, a little wobbly.

Marla poked Bronte gently with her foot, and he slowly raised his head. Despite knowing full well what she had just done, Sophie was surprised to find his face stained with tears. 

"Not dead!" Marla declared.

"Why would I be dead?" Bronte stood, slowly, and Sophie noticed his hands shaking slightly. "That was impressive, by the way, Sophie. You completely took me out, and Marla seems mainly unharmed."

"Hardly felt a thing."

"Oh. Thanks?" 

"That was intended as a compliment, yes." Bronte walked over to the desk, holding out the tin of custard bursts to first Sophie, then Marla. "Have some sugar, then try again."

Almost an hour later, Sophie was exhausted enough that she ended up sitting on the floor as Bronte hauled himself to his feet yet again. He looked tired too, face stained with the tears he'd stopped bothering to wipe away three tries ago. Even Marla looked tired, and she had only been catching the tail end of Sophie's inflicting.

Bronte rubbed a hand over his face tiredly, looking surprisingly human for a five-thousand-year-old elf. "Right, I think we can call that an end to the session. Marla, I left a second tin of custard bursts on the kitchen counter if you want to grab that on your way home, tell your girlfriend I said hi."

"Aw thanks, I will! She'll be all awed about it, probably. Hasn't quite gotten used to the fact that living in Eternalia means occasionally bumping into Councillors, let alone that her girlfriend is an assistant to one."

"Ah, kids these days."

"We're both in our sixties, Councillor Bronte."

"And I'm in my seventies...my five thousand, three hundred and seventies." 

While they were talking, Sophie had noticed movement out the large window and managed to haul herself to her feet. When she made her way over, she found that what she had noticed was Oralie pacing on the lawn in front of the castles. She was holding what looked like an imparter, and Sophie's heart ached a little at how similar her mannerisms were to Sophie's human mother talking on the phone. Back and forth across the lawn she went, curls bouncing slightly. Behind Sophie, she heard the door shut, but her focus was on Oralie. The pretty Councillor seemed tense, worried. Sophie couldn't help but be reminded of how much like that she had been after Kenric's death. 

“I tried to break them up, you know.”

Sophie glanced over at Bronte, finding that he had moved to stand next to her. “Kenric and Oralie?”

“Yes.” He paused, taking a quiet breath as if steeling himself. “I was worried for them. I always knew their story would end in heartbreak, one way or another. Kenric and Oralie were fiercely devoted to each other, but...in the end, I think their choice would be the same as mine. The Council must come first. Must _always_ come first.”

“Oh.” Deciding to try and lighten the mood, Sophie forced a smile. “When you say tried to break up, do you mean like, encouraged them not to be together or pulled elaborate schemes Mushu-in-Mulan-two style?”

“What in what?” Bronte looked utterly befuddled.

“Human thing. Never mind.”

He seemed to accept that as an explanation, sparse as it had been. “I wasn’t subtle about my intent, I don’t suppose. I told them I believed this to be unwise...but I helped them hide their love regardless. It wasn't as if they were any good at it, though.”

“Really? I mean, I guess I saw them interact a bit, but they weren’t even subtle in Council business?”

“Ancients, no. They were the opposite of subtle. Always mooning all over each other like lovesick puppies.”

Sophie glanced over again, this time noting the softness in his gaze as Oralie made yet another loop of the lawn. “You thought they were sweet.”

“I most certainly did not,” Bronte huffed.

"Oh, because you're the 'grumpy, not-soft' Councillor Bronte?" She made the words as sarcastic as possible.

Bronte nodded anyways. "I am _not_ soft. In fact, I am quite cruel. And I certainly do not do silly things like find my best friend's romance sweet."

"Keep telling yourself that," Sophie muttered, and then his words fully caught up to her. "Oralie's your best friend? That's _adorable_."

"Oh, hush." Bronte's harsh words had very little impact when paired with his fond look at Oralie. When she first met him, Sophie would never have believed that he even _had_ a fond look. Now, after listening to him talk about Oralie and Kenric, she had no doubt of said look's existence.

"Oh hush," she mimicked back. "Seriously, though, you care so much."

His fingers traced Oralie's shape on the windowpane, eyes distant and sad. "Maybe so."

"And I'd bet that's why you tried to break them up," Sophie added. 

"It was only going to end badly. One way or another. Better for them to break up, learn to care a little less, and hate me than for them to get hurt." Bronte gave a short, bitter laugh. "It isn't as if it matters now what my intent was. I failed."

"I don't think you failed. I think you misunderstood what they needed." 

"And what did they need?"

Sophie shrugged. "I mean, I might just be a romantic teenager, but....kinda seems like they needed each other, and that they were willing to take the risks that came with that."

Bronte didn't respond.

"I mean," she went on, "I think they'd rather have had just ten years together than a hundred apart."

"They deserved _millennia_." His voice was flat as ever, but there was genuine pain behind it. "They deserved eternity together."

Sophie shrugged. "Aren't you the one always talking about how there aren't any happy endings?"

"I am. And there aren't. That doesn't change the fact that they deserved one."

"They did." There was a lump in her throat when Oralie walked below their window again, worry etched onto her lovely face and imparter held to her ear. 

The silence fell for a few melancholy moments before Bronte spoke again. "I know, by the way."

"What?"

"I know that she is biologically your mother."

Sophie stared at him. "And you're just...chill with that?"

Bronte shrugged. "I do not necessarily approve of her decision, nor can I say I would have chosen the same, but it was hers to make. Why should I have an opinion on what's clearly you and Oralie's business?"

"She...broke the law?"

"So do we all, sometimes. Sometimes it's the only right thing to do. My mothers broke the law by sheltering me, technically. Kenric and Oralie broke the law by falling in love. My brother broke the law on numerous occasions, and some of them were truly for good." Bronte's gaze was piercing. "I wouldn't have made her choice, but that does not mean it was the 'wrong' choice to make."

"What about hiding it from me? What about letting Prentice's mind get broken to protect her secret?" Sophie was surprised at the bitterness of her own voice.

"Neither of those were especially moral choices, but I do see her motive. It's impossible to say, really, what the 'right' choice is in a world as complicated as this one." He shrugged again. "I will say, though, that you deserved the truth. I'm glad you got it."

"What do I do with it, though?"

"What do you mean?"

"What do I do with that knowledge? Does she have to be my mom? Does she _want_ to be my mom?"

"Why are you asking me this?" Bronte didn't wait for a reply. "You do whatever the fuck you want. Blood doesn't always mean family, and family doesn't always mean blood. The only blood family I claim still are Fintan and my great-aunt Alera."

"Are you saying I should...disown Oralie?" Sophie was struggling to process. 

"I didn't say that. What I meant is that she doesn't have to be your family just because you share her DNA." He sighed. "I might not be the most qualified elf to give advice on this. I have no children of my own, and my biological parents were....rather like Keefe's. So don't take what I say at face value."

"I think that makes your advice better, honestly," Sophie told him. "You get what it's like to have a really complicated, kinda fucked up relationship with your family."

"Well, that's true." Bronte's voice was wry. "Bringing us back to the original point, I know for a fact that Oralie cares about you. That does not mean you owe her a familial relationship. Or anything, really. I know she would be sad if you wanted nothing to do with her, but she would accept it.”

Sophie nodded, turning her gaze back to fall on Oralie, whose curls were bouncing slightly as she walked. “I...don’t know what I want.”

“That’s okay. She’ll wait.”

Sophie appreciated that he hadn’t tried to tell her she would have eternity to figure it out. She guessed Bronte knew how fragile people’s lives were just as well as she did. How easily they could be snuffed out. “Thanks for the advice.”

Bronte shrugged. “I’m old, giving advice is what I do. That and paperwork.”

“Don’t you rule the world?”

“You’d be surprised at how much of ruling the world consists of giving advice and paperwork.”

Sophie snorted, smiling a little as she glanced over at him. “You know, I think there’s two weird parts to all this.”

“Oh?”

“You being friendly to me, and the fact that...in another world, Kenric could have been my father. And you’d be a grouchy uncle.”

Bronte froze, surprise flashing over his face. “I suppose...I suppose so.”

“Just a weird thought I had,” Sophie added quickly. “I mean, Kenric...he would have been my father if Oralie and him and I were all humans. And Oralie told me once that you’re practically her brother, so that qualifies you to be an uncle.”

“Ha ha. I’d be a shit uncle.”

“Nah, you’re the weird old gay with good advice.”

“Did you just call me an old gay?”

“Am I wrong?”

“You’re not wrong,” Bronte sighed.

Below the window, Oralie stopped to turn and wave up to them, and then tapped her temple.

Sophie understood, sending her thoughts shooting over. _Hi_.

 _Hello, Sophie_. Oralie’s mental voice was nearly as gentle as her physical one.

_What do you need?_

_You two to let me in, Bronte agreed I could use his kitchen to make mallowmelt. He even said he might help after your inflicting session._

Sophie pretended to consider it for a second. _Only if I get some mallowmelt._

 _Deal_ , Oralie agreed.

Sophie broke off the connection and turned back to Bronte. “Oralie wants us to let her in, she says you were going to let her use your kitchen.”

“Oh, I forgot. Alright, let’s go let her in.”

“Yay mallowmelt for us!”

“Yay mallowmelt for us.”

Oralie's smile was cautious but real when Bronte opened the door, Sophie beside him, and Bronte seemed just as genuinely happy to see the other. 

"Hello, Bronte. Hi, Sophie."

"Hello," Bronte returned. "Come in, sorry for the lateness."

"No worries at all." Oralie flashed them both a smile. "I was in the middle of a call anyways. Now what are we baking today?"

"Some ridiculously complicated mallowmelt and chocolate creation?"

"Sounds about right. Sophie, do you want to help?"

Sophie glanced between the two of them. "I think putting tired me in a kitchen is going to result in Bronte's castle being wrecked somehow."

"I pushed her hard in our inflicting session," Bronte agreed. "Take some time to rest, Miss Foster, you're welcome to stay until this evening. Tell Grady and Edaline I said hello when you decide to head back."

Figuring Grady and Edaline wouldn't be home until the evening anyways, Sophie flopped into one of Bronte's armchairs and watched the debacle of the two Councillors cooking together. Sitting in the living room as Oralie and Bronte argued over flavors, she thought maybe life as a Councillor’s biological daughter wasn’t so awful.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this maybe check out my Keeper of the Lost Cities tumblr @bronte-deserves-better! (I tag for Unlocked spoilers.)


End file.
